


Feel

by DottyDot



Series: How It Could Happen [7]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, jonsa, post parentage reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DottyDot/pseuds/DottyDot
Summary: Worst of all, she makes him feel.





	Feel

 

 

Worst of all, she makes him feel.

He doesn't want to think about his father, let alone feel anything about it. He doesn't want to feel anything about his mother or the shame he had been made to feel for who he was. Shame was part of him, how could that shame no longer be his?

He doesn't want to feel what it means to not only give up his identity as "bastard" but to now be king, heir to a throne. Hadn't "bastard" been his armor? And now it is stripped from him. He is in danger of being pierced, and when she looks at him, her blue eyes carve right through him. What she might find if she looks any closer terrifies him.

He doesn't want to feel anything about his actions, his relationship with Daenerys, but she makes him feel that too. She never says a word, but when he looks at her, she knows. Without thinking that it would matter to her at all, only that it might save her and their siblings, he had hurt her. He doesn't want to feel that.

He doesn't want to feel his reaction to Arya and Bran. How could he blame them for what they've become? They're children filled with death, unable to mourn without breaking. He had wanted them to be unscathed. They were formed by suffering, grown not up, but out, in broken segments, misshapen.

That is what his life is now. None of it makes any sense, just pieces. Every section of his life abruptly cut off. The titles he wore and discarded and new ones he didn't know how to hold weighed on him: King, brother, Lord Commander, Wildling, Crow, son, nephew, Warden, lover, _cousin_. In that way he and Arya are the same, both playing versions of the game of faces. He had been doing it all his life without knowing, and now he might fall into the space between his many selves. Truth is there, but it is too dangerous for him to linger.

There are lives he might have lived had he not been a bastard. Every stolen life is ripped through him. Those scars as real as any on his chest, but it is the loss of the one life he wanted that breaks him. One life he might have had. One woman he might have loved. If only they had not been forced to live a lie.

She's there, knowing him before he knows himself. He aches. He feels. She always makes him feel even when they are feelings better forgotten. Just because he doesn't cry doesn't mean he doesn't feel it all, but he _is_ crying. He just doesn't know it until Sansa brushes away his tears.

 

 

 


End file.
